The Markings of Magic
by ChaosMorning
Summary: For Fenris it was carved into his flesh, polluting his soul; for Hawke it ran through his veins, dictating every step. One hundred themes (6/100).
1. Introduction

**The Markings of Magic**

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><p><strong>1. Introduction<strong>

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><p>Perhaps he should have had Anso question this, this <em>Hawke <em>man more, at least enough to know what he truly was.

Had he been one of Danarius' hunters he would have been taken utterly by surprise.

But no.

It was not until his fingers were alight with the essence of magic as he tossed an ice bolt at one of summoned demons that he realized exactly what this man was: a _mage._

Yes, Hawke seemed docile, if of... questionable wit and poor humoured taste, seemingly innocent of dark magic... but being in _any _mage's presence and not crushing their heart while it still beats in their chest made him feel apprehensive, unclean, make his skin _crawl._

"Seems like a waste of a perfectly handsome elf..."

Being in this... _Anthony's_ presence made him feel awkward.


	2. Love

**The Markings of Magic**

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><p><strong>2. Love<strong>

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><p>It was a... foreign concept that Hawke evoked.<p>

Anthony brushing his bangs from his eyes when they lay in his canopy bed together.

Simple walks about the city.

Anthony's fingers tracing over his skin, carefully avoiding the markings.

Murmurs of, _"I love you..." _when he kissed him before leaving the mansion.

"I... I-" he had not thought to say this before, "I love you too."

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><p>This one occurs after the events of <em>Alone <em>but well before _The Last Straw._


	3. Light

**The Markings of Magic**

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><p><strong>3. Light<strong>

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><p>"<em>Ugh, <em>I had better be _swimming _in gold after all of this."

After their little sojourn about the crumbling remains of the Dwarven Empire he imagines that Hawke's sentiments about the whole endeavour.

A _Templar._

How quaint. Carver's hypocrisy appears to know no bounds. Evidently his _threats_ of 'having to go through him,' outside the manor were hollow.

Fenris notices though, as Hawke leans on the door frame to Gamlen's hovel as he watches his brother leave, that his cheeks, filthy and grime covered from the venture, have tears running down them.


	4. Dark

**The Markings of Magic**

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><p><strong>4. Dark<strong>

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><p>"Father…?"<p>

Hawke struggles under his father's arm, trying to look over the shrubbery.

"Hush, Anthony."

The metallic _clink_ of their armour rang through the silent forest.

Anthony put his own arms around Bethany, nodding, attempting to reassure her. She closed her eyes tight and so did he.

The sightless dark was far more comforting than the sunlit woods.


	5. Rot

**The Markings of Magic**

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><p><strong>5. Rot<strong>

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><p>"May she rot, along with all the other mages."<p>

Hawke cringes at this and Fenris is relieved he has the sense not to ask for an apology at the moment, even if Hawke feels he should have one.

It's hardly Fenris' concern at the moment.

He swallows hard; it is indeed a bitter pill.

~0~0~0~

_"Oh _dear,_ I'm sorry," she makes her 'pleasantries' before she even deigns to knock his plate onto the granite floors._

_Fenris looks to her._

_"Poor little rabbit, I suppose you'll just go without for now," her laughter is so shrill. He watches her, expressionless, as she covers her mouth with her hand and he envisions her choking on it._

_"So sorry, knife-ear."_

_The slave from the scullery shares some of her bread with him, at least he won't have to listen to his stomach as he attends to his master later._

_There is nothing to be done._

~0~0~0~

He purses his lips before he knocks. He swallows hard, the meal he takes with it is best served cold.

The dwarf - Bodahn - shows him in to the foyer and he waits for Hawke.


	6. Break

**The Markings of Magic**

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><p><strong>6. Break<strong>

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><p>"'<em>We'll get out Kirkwall for Solstice,'<em> Hawke says, _'We'll _enjoy_ the _wonders_ of Wycombe,'_ Hawke says. Bah."

Isabela _tsk_-ed, "Oh lighten up, Fenris."

"In my defence, the idea of a little city in the Free Marches that imports almost as much wine as all of Orlais _does _sound like a fun vacation spot."

The elf sighed and ripped the length of his blade from yet another body.

"Not say, 'I told you so,' or anything, Hawke, but… _I told you so."_

Hawke's eyes cut into Varric, "You said something about demon pirates at the beach. This is most certainly _not _the beach, and _they _are most certainly not demon pirates."


End file.
